


love is all that i can give to you

by manzini (writtendlessly)



Category: Shadowhunters (TV)
Genre: Alec Lightwood Loves Magnus Bane, M/M, Magnus Bane Deserves Nice Things, Poetry, Romantic Fluff, alec lightwood is a romantic, also alec loves reading this is canon facts!!!, idk what to tag this but alec is a romantic and is trying his best, kinda wonky timeline its early days up to post-marriage but not in alicante yet, not really angst but ???, specifically poems and gifts, that should be a tag tbh
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-26
Updated: 2020-01-26
Packaged: 2021-02-27 15:41:06
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,945
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22419418
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/writtendlessly/pseuds/manzini
Summary: Alec has never been good with words (always too blunt, too serious, too plain) and now, with everything out in the open, it's harder than ever. But that's what the experts are for, right? If Alec can't say it, maybe someone else can.
Relationships: Magnus Bane/Alec Lightwood
Comments: 44
Kudos: 236
Collections: Very Best Malec





	love is all that i can give to you

**Author's Note:**

> This was born from my idea/headcanon that sometimes Alec just needs other people's words to express how he feels, especially towards Magnus. 
> 
> Check the notes at the end for the sources of all the quotes used in this! I hope you enjoy :)

The first time it happens, Magnus doesn't realize. 

It starts with a lazy Tuesday morning. Magnus wakes up later than usual, long after Alec has woken up and left for the institute. Alec's morning routine is quick and silent—a five minute shower befitting a soldier, the hair product Magnus had introduced him to last week, a thermos of black coffee—so Magnus barely stirs until nearly noon. 

He slips on a robe and his slippers, starting up the coffee pot with a wave of his hand as he pads into the kitchen. As expected, nothing is out of place, giving the appearance of a completely untouched kitchen. If it wasn't for the coffee filter in the garbage, Magnus wouldn't even know Alec had been there.

Truthfully, he's not sure if Alec meticulously cleans up when he's done, or if he just moves so carefully that nothing ever gets moved or messy. Both make Magnus' heart ache in their own ways. He wants to tell Alec to make a mess, leave his socks on the floor, used coffee grounds in the machine—just _something_ to reassure Magnus that this is real, that he didn't just dream up Alec in a fit of loneliness. 

The coffee doesn't take long to brew and Magnus lets his magic do the work of pouring it into his favorite mug, while he manually opens the fridge to get some milk. Idly, he thinks (as he usually does in the mornings), that he could afford to get a smaller fridge since he never keeps much in it. Just some milk, a few beers for Alec, and— a mysterious paper bag?

Not _that_ mysterious, because it bears the logo of the closest coffee shop on the front. But mysterious in the fact that it wasn't there last night and Magnus never goes to that cafe. 

Magnus pulls it out, letting the door fall shut without even grabbing the milk. When it's finally in his hand, a message written in black ink catches his eye on the other side of the bag. 

_"I want us both to eat well."_  
_\- Alec_

Magnus ponders the words as he opens it to find a few croissants inside. They're plain, no chocolate or cream, but Magnus wouldn't expect anything different from Alec. He takes one out to eat and then continues to stare at Alec's message, hoping that the words will eventually coalesce into some meaning. Perhaps there is no other meaning, and Alec just wants Magnus to leave one for him to enjoy after work. 

Magnus can't be sure, so he leaves one out on the counter—magically preserved, of course—and Alec eats it when he gets home, smiling at Magnus between bites.

The second time is less cryptic, but Magnus still hasn't picked up on the pattern yet.

Alec has all but officially moved in, his things littered around Magnus' apartment like breadcrumbs in a forest. Magnus follows them when Alec is gone—the jacket by the front door, the half-empty cup on the coffee table, the extra pair of boxers neatly folded and hidden in an empty drawer. He makes circles around his own home and feels both lost and found because of it. 

Magnus realizes Alec doesn't actually own many things. Most of his possessions are institute-issued and Magnus hasn't asked, but he has a feeling that even Alec's seraph blades and bows are locked away when he's not using them. He has some photos in his wallet and not much else as far as sentimentality goes. Magnus can't imagine not keeping little pieces of everyone and everywhere, but he knows Alec hasn't been to many places, hasn't had many friends. 

What Alec _does_ have, however, is books. More than Magnus could have guessed, with how busy Alec's schedule is. Almost every week, Alec has a new book in his bag and when Magnus asks, Alec tells him that the institute library only has non-fiction, but there's a used bookstore a few blocks away. 

Alec brings his books (everything from mystery novels to a few comic books) and then never takes them home, even when he's finished. Or maybe he _is_ taking them home, but Magnus still doesn't want to put words to that thought. 

So Magnus isn't surprised to find a book lying in the middle of their— _Magnus'_ bed. He's not even surprised to find it exactly center, the book equidistant from the edges of the bed as if Alec couldn't possibly do anything less than perfect. But this book, unlike the others that Magnus has started gathering on a dedicated shelf, has a sticky note on the front reading:

_I just finished this and I recommend it. I bookmarked my favorite poem. Let me know what you think?_

Magnus doesn't even look at the author or title, instead immediately flipping to the page and reading the poem. He recognizes the poem immediately, his heart pounding as he reads. The second paragraph is highlighted in a simple bright yellow:

_i fear_  
_no fate(for you are my fate,my sweet)i want_  
_no world(for beautiful you are my world,my true)_  
_and it’s you are whatever a moon has always meant_  
_and whatever a sun will always sing is you_

And then the final line _i carry your heart(i carry it in my heart)_ is underlined, with a heart doodled next to it. Something about the small, misshapen heart brings tears to Magnus' eyes without his control. Alec specifically chose this poem, drew attention to these lines, with the intention of Magnus reading them. 

Magnus has had great artists paint him masterpieces, great musicians compose him symphonies, and yet something about this small gesture is more meaningful than all of them. Alec read this love poem and thought of him. He wanted Magnus to know this. He drew a tiny, inconsequential picture for him. 

Magnus finds himself dropping down on the bed with little awareness, the book clutched tightly in his hands. It's not too long, and he vows to read the entire thing today before Alec returns. 

It doesn't come up until later that night, when Alec is lying propped up in bed and Magnus is in the middle of his bedtime routine. Magnus left the book on his nightstand after he read it that afternoon. (And isn't that a novel concept? Magnus has _his_ nightstand and _his_ side of the bed, and Alec has those things too. There's something about the division of space that lends itself to surprising unity.) 

Alec must spot the book because he asks, "What did you think?"

"Hmm?" Magnus pauses just briefly as he changes into his pajamas. "Of dinner? Indian was a great choice, Alexander." 

"No, I meant the book."

Magnus looks back at Alec and sees the book in his hands, Alec's fingers brushing over the spine and flipping through some pages. Magnus thinks of the poem Alec had said was his favorite, the one he read nearly a hundred times that day, and tries to feign nonchalance. 

"Many were hard to follow, admittedly," Magnus says, instead of what he really wants to say. 

Alec laughs, "Yeah, they are."

Magnus has finished dressing and removing his makeup, so he starts to slide into bed next to Alec as he asks, "Do you understand them all?"

Alec holds an arm up for Magnus to settle underneath and even if they've done this many times before, he feels nervous tonight. It wasn't that long ago that they said their first "I love you"s and Magnus still feels on edge in the aftermath. Isn't Alec tired of him yet? When will he realize that Magnus isn't worth the trouble? 

Magnus curls up against his side and Alec's arm rests across his back, his hand curling around Magnus' waist.

"No, definitely not," Alec laughs again, and this time Magnus can feel the rumble of it. "But I think I can understand the feeling, maybe."

Magnus nods but stays quiet.

"What did you think about the poem?" Alec's voice is quiet now, nearly a whisper, and he doesn't clarify, but they both know which one.

"It was," Magnus cuts off, suddenly feeling choked up again. He clears his throat. "It was lovely, Alexander."

Alec turns to kiss Magnus' forehead, rubbing his thumb back and forth over the bare skin of Magnus' waist, and doesn't comment on the wet tears pressed into his shoulder. 

The third time is when it finally starts making sense. 

They had reluctantly parted that morning after a round of morning sex, then some crêpes, then goodbye sex—in exactly that order. Magnus' expertise in Edomic magic and potion-making was needed in Seattle and he decided, after much pestering from Alec, to get a hotel in the city rather than portal back and forth every day. 

When Magnus finally pulls himself away to make a portal for him and his things, Alec draws him into his arms one final time, muttering, " _Parting is such sweet sorrow._ "

The words seem familiar to Magnus, but he can't quite place them, and he forgets when he arrives in Seattle and quickly becomes enveloped in the chaos.

Later that night he's unpacking his things into the hotel dresser and closet when he sees a folded up paper tucked between his clothes. He opens it and immediately recognizes the New York Institute letterhead.

_"When you depart from me sorrow abides, and happiness takes his leave."_  
_Please stay safe._  
_Love you,_  
_Alec_

This quote is familiar to Magnus as well, and it doesn't take too long for the name _Shakespeare_ to come to mind. Magnus knew Alec liked literature and even some poetry, but he never really pegged Alec as a Shakespeare guy. It was surprising, in that exciting and harmless way that Magnus hopes he never grows used to. 

Magnus grabs his phone and texts Alec _You too, my dear._ and Alec simply replies with a _:) <3._

They don't get to talk about it until Magnus comes back, a week later, and they're in the midst of recounting everything the other had missed when they were separated. 

"I never knew you liked Shakespeare," Magnus says. It's a bit of a non sequitur from their previous conversation about their favorite burger place changing their menu, but Alec rolls with it.

"Let me guess," Alec grins at him, his tone light but sarcastic. "He was a great guy? Threw crazy parties?"

"I never met the man," Magnus smiles. This was a common joke between them. Alec mentions some famous mundane or shadowhunter and Magnus provides an, often false, anecdote about them. "But why didn't you mention it?"

"It never came up," Alec shrugs. He doesn't seem uneasy, the way he usually does when unknown information about him comes up in conversation. It's not that Alec is keeping secrets, but there are a lot of things that have stuck with him since his childhood and uncovering each new trauma is simultaneously painful and freeing for the both of them. "It has a special place in my heart, I guess."

"Why is that?" 

Magnus settles himself on the couch and pats the empty seat next to him. Alec sits down, but farther away, so they're on opposite ends and facing each other. Alec had told him before, " _I can't concentrate on anything else when I'm holding you_ , _"_ and Magnus smiles at the reminder.

"I told you the institute library doesn't have any fiction books," Alec starts and Magnus nods. "It's because my parents ordered for them all to be removed. Probably just thrown in a dumpster or burned, knowing them."

Alec starts to fidget a bit, looking down at his hands and absentmindedly twisting the bracelet Magnus had bought him around his wrist. (It's just a thin black cord, no adornments, but Alec had put it on and never removed it since.) 

He continues, "They used to just pass me off to someone else when I wasn't in my lessons, and then that person would leave me in the library. I'm not sure if they ever locked me in. I was too scared to find out."

"Alexander," Magnus murmurs, reaching across the space to hold one of Alec's hands. 

"It's fine," Alec shrugs again. "The point is that I was young and small enough to be looking at the bottom shelves and I finally found a book, _Romeo and Juliet_. I didn't understand it, of course, but it wasn't about Raziel or fighting techniques, so I cherished it." 

Magnus can guess where this is going.

"Eventually my parents found out that nobody respected them enough to actually watch their child, so they put me in the training sessions with the older kids. I didn't have much time to read after that, and the book was gone anyway."

Magnus frowns. It's irrational, but a part of him hates being reminded about Alec's childhood training, the way he was raised to be a soldier before a person. Alec squeezes Magnus' hand, trying to comfort Magnus even when it should be the other way around. Not for the first time, Magnus thinks, _what did I do to deserve you?_

"I remembered the name of the story until I was old enough to go out on my own, and then I bought it from a bookstore. It took me almost a year to get through it and understand what happened."

"Ah, so that's one of your favorites, I presume?" Magnus asks. 

Alec rolls his eyes and huffs, "God, no. The characters are so stupid, and they're basically children. It's not romantic at all. Romeo and Juliet remind me a little of Jace and Clary, to be honest."

Magnus lets out an undignified snort of laughter at the thought.

"Still, it was the first book I bought on my own and I read all his other works after that," Alec concludes. Now that his story is wrapping up, he seems to be shifting himself closer to Magnus. "So it's sentimental, in a way. There's some lines I really like and I have them memorized."

"Oh?" Magnus shifts himself over too so that he's nearly sprawled in Alec's lap. "Like what?"

Alec straightens up, pitching his voice lower in a clear expression of playfulness, but the words still feel heavy and important to Magnus.

_"Doubt thou the stars are fire;_  
_Doubt that the sun doth move;_  
_Doubt truth to be a liar;_  
_But never doubt I love."_

Magnus quotes another Shakespeare line back to Alec, _"I do love nothing in the world so well as you,"_ and leans forward to kiss him. 

After that, Alec's actions become much clearer, but the reasoning is still out of Magnus' grasp.

The next time Alec leaves him lines of poetry it's a cold December evening and Alec isn't home. Alec had promised that he just had one last meeting to attend and then he was off for the next few days, but Magnus didn't have high hopes for his return any time soon. Magnus himself had been busy all day with clients and purchasing potion ingredients and meetings with warlocks.

Magnus dumps his bag and shoes at the door in a heap, allowing his magic to put them back in their place as he strolls into the loft. The temperature is perfectly warm and comfortable compared to the frigid New York air outside. Even though the roof is spelled and warded to be protected from the elements, many of the strays have wandered down into the main loft. 

One is currently sniffing at one of Alec's many back-up steles that the cat seems to have knocked on to the floor. Another is lounging on the dining table on its back, legs up in the air. Yet another is winding itself around Magnus' legs, but Magnus would always recognize this particular cat.

"Chairman Meow, my sweet baby," Magnus coos. He bends down to scratch under Chairman's chin and when he looks up before standing again, he spots something on the coffee table. There's a single sunflower, and a small scrap of paper next to it. The paper reads:

_It was like the sunflower turning to the sun._

And nothing else. Magnus suspects this is part of a longer poem, but he resists the urge to search the words online to try to find the rest. He picks up the flower, surprisingly real and alive despite it being the dead of winter, and puts it in a vase. He then heads to the bedroom to change out of his Sexy Negotiation Clothes into his more comfortable Sexy Relaxing Clothes, which have decidedly less leather but much more exposed skin. 

(It was a long day, and sometimes you just need a good fuck to forget it all. Not that Alec needs any extra incentive to fuck him but, you know, it doesn't hurt.)

When he enters his closet, however, there's another gift from Alec on his dressing bench. This time the note is a little longer, and instead of a flower there is a small velvet box.

Magnus looks at the gift first this time, opening the box to reveal a necklace. It's a simple silver chain, long enough that it will hang to mid-chest, with a small pendant containing a multi-colored gemstone. The stone catches the light and appears to be many colors at once. Magnus wants to wear it immediately, but he casts some protection spells on it first. 

The spells bounce back, however, and now that Magnus is looking for it, he can feel Catarina's magic all over the necklace. Magnus tries again, this time weaving his magic into Cat's before putting the necklace on. Then Magnus picks up the note and, as he assumed, it's a continuation of the first one.

_It was like I had been living my life in black-and-white and suddenly went to color._

There's no more gifts after that (Magnus searched the whole loft) until Alec comes home that night with another, larger, box in his hands. Alec has barely had time to take off his shoes and jacket before Magnus is on him, kissing his cheek and grinning down at the box.

"Is that for me?" Magnus asks.

Alec laughs and hauls him in for another kiss, this time on the mouth, before holding out the box to Magnus.

"You don't have to play coy, Magnus. You know it's yours."

"I'm not _playing_ coy," Magnus replies, mock offended. "I'm a sweet and innocent flower, pure as the driven snow."

Alec rolls his eyes, "There was nothing innocent about the texts you sent me all day."

Magnus grins. He might've been feeling _a bit_ mischievous that day, but it was nothing worse than Alec had said to him that same morning. 

Alec moves past him into the kitchen, immediately rifling through their drawer of takeout menus, and Magnus opens the box. Inside the box is another box, but this one is heavy and made of smooth, dark wood. When Magnus opens it, he sees that it's a music box and the instrumental of _What a Wonderful World_ starts playing.

Magnus smiles, feeling warm and light. When he looks into the gift box again, Magnus spots the note he was expecting. Magnus unfolds it and Alec, with impeccable timing only a shadowhunter could have, recites it as soon as Magnus starts to read.

" _It was like there had always been a clamor inside me and suddenly it stopped. It was like a big brass band had been playing in my chest. It stopped. There was peace and silence where before there had been noise."_

Magnus places the music box down on the nearest table and wraps his arms around Alec, pressing his face against Alec's chest. 

"Thank you, darling," Magnus says, albeit slightly muffled.

Alec rubs his hands up and down Magnus' back and replies, "You're welcome, my love." 

When Magnus finally pulls it together, they separate and order dinner. Later, around the dining table, Magnus asks him about the poem.

"It's not really a poem," Alec says around a mouthful of fried rice. It's disgusting, but oddly endearing nonetheless. "It's this interview from a woman in Canada. She's talking about the first time she fell in love with a woman."

"Oh," Magnus says, and it's really all he can say. The romantic lines have an entirely new context around them now. Magnus thinks of the Alec he first met—scared, depressed, hiding himself from the world—and he thinks _big brass band_ only barely describes how Alec must've felt.

"I've been trying to read more from, uh, queer authors," Alec stumbles around the word like he always does, but there was a time he couldn't bring himself to say it at all. "Some website recommended the interview."

"Look at you," Magnus teases. "Using the internet like a mundane."

Alec rolls his eyes but doesn't respond to the taunt. Instead he asks, "Did you like your gifts? I know you don't really celebrate birthdays, exactly, because of the calendars but— I don't know, I wanted to get you something?"

Magnus stops eating to look at Alec and despite all they've been through together, Alec still seems worried about upsetting him. Magnus knows more about nephilim culture and traditions than he cares to admit (especially when Alec delights so much in teaching him) but Alec still tries so hard to learn Magnus' cultural traditions. Whether they be warlock, or Indonesian, or something of Magnus' own invention. Magnus also enjoys teaching him these things as well.

Anything aging-related was always tense between them, but for the most part they've pushed it to the side and tried to ignore it. So Alec's unease is understandable. 

"Don't worry," Magnus reassures. "The gifts were beautiful, even more so because they came from someone I love. Thank you for remembering, Alexander."

"It's just basic decency, don't thank me."

This time it's Magnus' turn to roll his eyes. Alec has told him this many times before, but Magnus refuses to stop thanking Alec for his kindness and love. 

They finish the rest of the meal and retire to the couch, going through their normal routine of watching bad reality television and trash-talking people from their respective jobs. The sunflower sits in its vase on the side table and Magnus sneaks glances at it all night, rubbing the chain of his new necklace between his fingers as he does. Alec doesn't point it out, but he kisses Magnus' hair whenever he catches him doing it.

Eventually, Magnus just decides to ask him about it.

Alec keeps giving him lines of poetry along with his gifts over the next few months, though they both have less time for gift-giving with the constant threats to their world. When they're finally able to settle down into a normal daily routine it's summer again and Magnus has a new piece of jewelry on his ring finger. 

It's a normal weekday for the two of them, but Alec has been coming home later and later these days, always wrapped up in clave business or dealing with Clary's reintroduction into their world. But tonight he comes back earlier than expected, before dinner time, and he has a small canvas in his hands when he returns.

"In the apothecary, Alexander," Magnus calls when he hears the muffled noises of Alec coming home for the night. 

Alec usually moves in complete silence, another part of his training he couldn't let go, but after his stealth combined with Magnus' tendency to be easily startled caused a potion accident, he's made an effort to be noisy on purpose. Alec mostly overdoes it—stomping around and calling out "I'm home now!" much too loudly—but his eagerness to help his loved ones is something Magnus has always loved about Alec, so he doesn't complain.

Alec finds him bent over a potion and waits patiently for Magnus to be done. 

When Magnus is finally putting a cork in the last potion bottle, Alec unfolds his hands from behind his back and holds out the canvas. Magnus can't see the picture painted on it, as there's also a note on top of it.

"What is this?" Magnus asks, eyebrows scrunching a bit in confusion. "Have you finally decided to take up painting like I suggested?"

Alec huffs, "No, Magnus."

Magnus laughs and looks at Alec with raised eyebrows, "You need a hobby, darling, you said so yourself."

"But not _art_ ," Alec says, as if the very thought is offensive. They both know Alec is the only one who can draw between the two of them, but Magnus has only seen it in action on bar napkins and sticky notes near Alec's office phone. Alec has been resistant thus far to all of Magnus' attempts to get him to explore his skills a bit more. "Will you just look at it, already?"

Alec sounds annoyed but Magnus can tell he's excited for Magnus' reaction, so he doesn't delay. He looks down at the note taped over the art and reads _I’d choose you; in a hundred different lifetimes, in a hundred worlds, in any version of reality, I’d find you and I’d choose you._

Magnus finds himself tearing up at the words, and he glances up at Alec to see the other man watching him with a fond expression. Alec smiles at him, and nods his head towards the canvas. When Magnus lifts off the note there's a painting underneath, done up in the bright colors that Magnus recognizes as Clary's work.

As if reading his mind, Alec explains, "Clary did it, said it came to her in a dream."

Magnus nods and continues to examine the painting. It's him and Alec, but the setting isn't exactly clear to him. The background is made up of vague shapes in blues and purples, and Magnus and Alec are drinking and looking at each other in a way that reminds Magnus of their first night together, before there was ever a _them_. 

Magnus' hair is styled down, his makeup gone, but Magnus can feel the tension in his stance, the potential in the way he and Alec are staring at each other. It fills him with all the same butterflies he had the first time they shared drinks, and the warm comforting feeling he's had for every drink since. It's beautiful, especially when combined with Alec's note.

"Remember when I told you about Clary and Jace going to another dimension?" Alec settles down in a chair and leans back, inviting Magnus to come sit with him. Magnus quickly settles himself across Alec's thighs and they both look down at the painting together. "I never asked her about it because, well, we weren't on good terms then. And I had the whole wedding thing."

Magnus grins the way he always does when Alec's first wedding comes up, shy and hopeful, like he's reliving it again.

"Well I guess it stuck with her, and that's one of the memories she got back recently. She said we were both there, not together yet, but we met at a party."

Magnus nods, "So that's us meeting for the first time?"

Alec grins up at Magnus and wraps an arm around Magnus' waist, pulling him closer.

"It is."

There's a pause and then: "Why do I look like that?"

Alec laughs, tucking his head into the crook of Magnus' neck as he does. They both look back down at the painting in Magnus' hands. 

"I think you look cute," Alec says between laughs. "Sweet. Innocent. Clary said you had been _abstaining_ for awhile."

"Abstaining from what? Good taste?"

"If it makes you feel better, Clary said I was different too."

Magnus looks away from the image of himself to look at Alec in the picture. He doesn't look much different, though the fact that he's even at a party was a big enough difference between their worlds. 

"Alternate me was, uh, how did Clary put it?" Alec pauses for dramatic effect, an annoying habit he learned from spending too much time with Ragnor. "Very gay." 

"You say that as if you're not very gay in _this_ universe," Magnus teases. He puts a hand on Alec's neck to place a gentle kiss on his lips, as if punctuating his point. Alec closes his eyes and smiles, nodding.

"That is true."

"But...?" Magnus prompts.

"But I was already out, she said," Alec clarifies. "I worked as an event planner and I wore bright colors and jewelry." 

Now that Alec mentions it, Magnus can see the small details of rings and bracelets on the painted Alec. Magnus wonders what it would've been like to meet an Alec like that, especially back when _his_ Alec was planning his, very heterosexual, wedding. It probably would've made things a lot easier for them, but it wouldn't be the Alec he knows and loves. Suddenly, Magnus remembers the words that were attached to the painting. 

"And the poem?" Magnus asks. "I assume it's not an original."

Alec laughs, even if he's getting a bit flustered in the way he always does when talking about his interests outside of shadowhunting. 

"No, it's a book quote, actually." A pause. "I thought it was suitable."

Magnus thinks of _I'd find you and I'd choose you_ and smiles, snuggling further into Alec's hold and stroking gentle fingertips over the painting. Alec holds him silently for a while, absentmindedly drawing runes with his finger on Magnus' thigh. _Destined. Promise. Love. Wedded Union._

After a few minutes, Magnus speaks up again, "Can I ask you a question, Alexander?"

The response comes immediately, "Of course."

"Why do you always add a poem or quote to your gifts?" Alec shifts a little underneath him and Magnus, quick to defuse any situation even if he's unsure what Alec's reaction will be, rushes to add, "I'm not complaining. I love them! But it's never _your_ words, even though you're very capable of saying incredibly poetic things." 

Alec falters for a bit, "I... I'm not sure how to explain it, exactly. Which is kind of already an explanation, I guess." 

"What do you mean?"

Alec shifts again and Magnus turns to better face Alec, even if Alec isn't looking at him. Magnus is looking down at Alec instead of up because of his position on Alec's lap, so he has less ability to see the expression on Alec's face. The reasoning clearly has Alec a bit nervous, though, so Magnus doesn't push. 

"I guess it's just easier to use other people's words," Alec explains. He's back to tracing random designs on Magnus' leg. "I used to block it all off, before. Emotions were a distraction and a reminder of what I couldn't have. Izzy used to call me emotionless, sometimes, when she was mad at me. But I just felt— I just _feel_ so much and sometimes I feel like it's all going to burst out of me."

Magnus can relate, though a part of him envies Alec for learning how to lock it away and block himself off at such a young age, when Magnus is centuries old and still can't do it properly. It would've saved him a lot of heartache if he didn't wear his heart on his sleeve. But he knows, from Alec and others like him, that keeping your heart locked away is its own kind of heartache. 

Alec continues, "And now with you, it's even worse. I mean— not _worse_ , but I— It's stronger. The way I feel. About you and me and life. All of it just filling me up so much that I can't keep it in, and then it's just out and— _fuck_."

Alec runs a hand through his hair, clearly frustrated.

"Take your time, dear," Magnus comforts. He almost expects Alec to snap back _I don't_ have _time, not like you,_ but it never comes. 

"This is what I mean," Alec laughs, a little dark at the edges, like he's laughing at himself more than anything. "I can't explain myself or express what I feel about... about most things but especially about _you_. And you deserve better than that. You deserve the kind of poetry and romantic words that I can't write, so I give you other people's words and hope it's enough. Even if I know it isn't."

"Alexander," Magnus says. He takes ahold of one of Alec's hands and unfurls the fingers that had clenched up without Alec noticing. "You don't have to write sonnets or songs for me. You don't have to paint me masterpieces or compose sonatas. I love you for _you_ , not the pretty things you make for me." 

"But I _want to_ ," Alec insists. He laces his fingers with Magnus' and finally looks into his eyes. Surprisingly, Alec looks near tears and when Magnus draws his awareness to it, he can feel his own eyes are wet and without a glamour. "I need you to know how much you mean to me. You changed my world, Magnus. You saved my life."

Magnus sniffles a little and says, "Don't you see, Alec? You're already writing me poetry every day. Listen to what you say to me. _'You saved my life.'_ That's more beautiful and meaningful than anything you could find in a book. Because it's _you_."

Magnus fights back the tears threatening to fall and presses a kiss to Alec's forehead. When he draws back, Alec has kept his eyes closed but he's trembling a little, even if the energy has mostly drained out of him. Magnus kisses him again, this time on the lips and whispers, "You don't need to give me anything, just your presence is good enough. You're _more_ than enough."

Alec shakes his head like he's disagreeing, but he opens his eyes and meets Magnus for another kiss, "It'll never be enough. I could give you all the diamonds in the world, write a million poems, none of it will ever express how much I love you."

It's an argument they've had before. They're both stubborn fools sometimes (most of the time) and neither one will ever accept that they deserve the other. And they've both sworn, long before they ever said any wedding vows, to prove that to each other no matter how long it takes. 

It's not exactly the same between them. Magnus holds back and Alec can't let go, Magnus is too much and Alec is not enough, but in moments like these—whispering confessions of hidden fears while wrapped in each other's arms—it's clear they're more alike than they think. 

They stay silent for awhile, just drinking in the other's presence, before Alec speaks up again.

"I want to keep doing it," Alec says. "Finding quotes for you and writing them down, giving them to you with gifts."

Magnus smiles and tries to lighten the mood, "By all means, keep lavishing me in praise and riches." 

Alec laughs and digs his fingers into Magnus' sides, trying to provoke a laugh. Magnus squirms away and Alec tells him, "You'll regret ever saying that when the loft is full of useless junk."

"Oh darling, I'll never regret anything when it comes to you," Magnus replies, still stuck in the serious mood from before. Alec smiles up at him, eyes crinkled at the corners, and Magnus knows it's the truth.

"I love you, Magnus," Alec says and even if that formation of words has been uttered an immeasurable number of times before, the way Alec says it to him is like its own unique poem. Just for Magnus' ears, unable to be expressed in ink on a page. 

And Magnus composes a symphony in return, "I love you too, Alexander."

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading! Here's the quotes/poems/etc in order of appearance:
> 
> I love you. I want us both to eat well.  
> (Our Beautiful Life When It’s Filled with Shrieks - Christopher Citro)
> 
> The longer paragraph from the poem book is "I carry your heart" by E.E. Cummings (their poems are often pretty confusing or nonsensical in my opinion, thus why Magnus asks if Alec understands them all)
> 
> The Shakespeare section is as follows:  
> Parting is such sweet sorrow. - Romeo & Juliet  
> When you depart from me sorrow abides, and happiness takes his leave. - Much Ado About Nothing  
> Doubt thou the stars are fire, etc. - Hamlet  
> I do love nothing in the world so well as you. - Much Ado also
> 
> (In Season 1 there are two references to Shakespeare in regards to Alec (episode 1 and 2) so I decided that means he likes Shakespeare.)
> 
> The interview about falling in love with a woman is with Kathee Muzin from the Montreal Gazette, Dec 1991. (I don't actually have access to this article so I'm trusting other people quoting this as being accurate.)
> 
> I’d choose you; in a hundred different lifetimes, in a hundred worlds, in any version of reality, I’d find you and I’d choose you.  
> (The Chaos of Stars - Kiersten White)
> 
> All of these I found on tumblr (except the e.e. cummings poem because I'm just a fan) and I have reblogged many poetry posts that remind me of Alec, Magnus or Malec so feel free to ask me about them. [eyes emoji]
> 
> ALSO FINAL THING: With regards to Magnus' birthday, I went with the early December thing from canon but honestly there is and was many different calendars in use in Indonesia. So I feel like attaching Magnus' birthday to a specific day on a Gregorian calendar will never be perfectly accurate, and I headcanon that Magnus wouldn't really try to do so.


End file.
